


Let Me Help You

by abnormal_ace



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bad Coping Methods, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, I Tried, M/M, No Smut, Non-Sexual Age Play, One-Shot, Original Character(s), Rude - Freeform, Why isn't that a tag?, and, and honestly maybe it is, but it's got a happy ending, good coping methods, just a short thing I wrote to get over writers block, look man idek anymore, looking at the tags makes it sound sad, michael's an awesome boyfriend, no judgement here, one chapter, original work!, this part of their relationship is purely non-sexual, you don't have to know who they are
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:40:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26068861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abnormal_ace/pseuds/abnormal_ace
Summary: Ah, here goes. I'm bad at summaries, sorry. I promise you it's better than it sounds.Michael's boyfriend Adam walks out in the middle of a party. He follows him outside to find him in the middle of a panic attack.
Relationships: OMC/OMC, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 6
Kudos: 21





	Let Me Help You

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo! This is complete, not gonna add any more to it. I just needed to write to chase writers block away. Have fun!  
> ~~~
> 
> Trigger warnings for  
> -Implied/referenced abuse  
> -Self-harm  
> -Panic attacks  
> -Swearing

Adam closed his eyes and tried to take a breath. Struggling to get even just one normal one in, he glanced around at the surrounding darkness. Usually, he welcomed it as a friend, using the cover to his advantage. Now though, it was suffocating and overwhelming. It was a far cry from soothing. Grinding the heel of his hand into his forehead, he stumbled upright. Not noticing the worried looks being cast his way from his friends, he started walking away from where the group was gathered. The ground swayed beneath his feet as his breath started coming in short, shallow, increasingly desperate gulps.

The blurred silhouette of a lean figure getting up to follow Adam was visible from the corner of his eye. He kept walking forward, away from the commotion and low din of conversation. The night air was cold, and he unconsciously wrapped his arms around his shivering body. Sinking to the floor, he curled up, body heaving with dry sobs.

Michael slowly rounded the corner of the warehouse, scared of what he might find. He’d convinced the others Adam was okay, and that he just needed some time alone. It was partly true, but they didn’t need to know that anytime soon. Bracing himself, he looked down. 

Stiffening, Michael barely stopped himself from rushing forward and wrapping Adam, his poor Adam, in a hug. He knew from experience that it would only make the situation worse than it already was. Moving slowly and deliberately, Michael walked forward toward Adam. He tried to keep his movements open so that Adam wouldn’t spook. 

“Adam? Love? It’s me, Michael. Is it alright if I get near you?” Adam’s head shot up at the sound of Michael’s voice. His pupils were blown wide, and the apparent sheen of sweat was glistening on his neck and face. “Adam? Would you like me to hold your hand?”

Michael walked forward again, movements open and easily predictable. Adam stared at him, wide-eyed and scared. Michael had the sinking feeling that Adam wasn’t really seeing him but instead having another episode of flashbacks. 

With a sudden burst of movement, Adam scrambled backward and cornered himself against the fence. The wind breezed carelessly past, pooling stray leaves around him. Much like everything else, the leaves were brittle and cast dark shadows upon the ground.

Noticing the change in position immediately, Michael swore to himself. Making a quick decision, he began moving to his right. “Hey Adam, it’s me, Michael. Michael. Your Michael, Adam. I’m going to move over there,” he said, gesturing to the opposite corner, “so you won’t be trapped anymore.” Trying his best to keep his breathing slow and even so that Adam would hopefully mirror him, he moved to the other corner. Throughout the process, Adam hadn’t uttered a single word. He just eyed Michael warily like a scared and wounded animal.

There was always the chance that Adam could bolt and possibly hurt himself in the process. If he did, he’d just end up back at camp with the others. Michael was pretty sure that Adam’d instead take his chances with one person, rather than multiple.

Adam scratched insistently at his arms and wrist, making blood run down them in rivulets. Michael noticed with a rapidly sinking heart that there was more dried blood caked under his already dirty fingernails. He scolded himself, wondering how he could’ve possibly missed the signs that Adam was slowly getting worse, not better. _Your job is to keep him safe,_ he inwardly chided himself. _C’mon, do better. This is your fault. This is all your fault._

“Well, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Michael whispered to himself, making sure that Adam couldn’t hear. He crouched down, so the two of them were at eye level. “Adam, sweetheart. Can you stop scratching? We don’t want you to get hurt.”

The effect the well-intended question had was immediate. Adam dropped his hands to his sides but put them back up almost instantly in a defensive gesture. He tried to move backward and escape but stopped by the chain-link fence pushing insistently on his shoulder blades.

The dull silver metal was covered in ages of rust that flaked off and spiraled down in flurries to Adam’s shoulders. They rested undisturbed by the wind. Michael spared them a glance, wishing desperately to reach out and brush them away.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m sorry,” Adam whimpered out. “Please sir, I’ll be good, I’ll be good. I won’t-” he broke off, shuddering. “Please, don’t- don’t hurt me. Don’t hurt me. I’ll be good. I’ll do what you say. I promise. Please-” He curled up, ready to ward off blows that didn’t come. 

For a second, Michael’s vision clouded over with white-hot fury. Fury that someone had ever dared hurt Adam in that way. The blazing anger was quickly chased away by stronger emotions- ones that he couldn’t begin to name. “Don’t have to call me that, you know you don’t.”

Michael shook his head, clearing everything away. He needed to stay focused, he needed to be brave and strong. “Adam,” he whispered, “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m Michael. Your Michael. It’s okay now. You’re with me now, and I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Reaching out a tentative hand, he placed it gently over Adam’s cold and clammy one. When he didn’t flinch back or start begging again, Michael breathed a sigh of relief and took it as a good signal. A sign that they were headed in the right direction. “Can you understand me, my love? Is there anything I can do to help you?”

Adam jerked his head up, eyes shifting around in terror. Locking eyes with the person sitting across from him, he relaxed a minuscule amount. It wasn’t a lot by any means, but Michael would take it in a heartbeat over the alternative.

“Michael?” Adam’s voice was weak and small. Michael’s heart shattered into a thousand broken pieces as he heard it. He made a silent vow never to let anyone hurt him ever again. “Michael? Is He here?”

Without having to ask who He was, Michael shook his head quickly. It was Adam’s uncle, the one he’d lived with since he was four. 

“He’s not here love; it’s just me. I promise.” Michael looked earnestly at Adam, sending waves of love and comfort out only through his gaze. “I promise,” he repeated.

Adam exhaled shakily. “Michael,” he whispered, holding out his arms before dropping them. “Please?” His hands trembled at his sides like tired butterflies.

Michael would catch butterflies as a kid, cupping his hands around the fragile wings as he made sure not to hurt it. Butterflies with broken wings die, no matter how pretty. The world doesn’t care about beauty though. Everything dies in the end. There was one time when someone called out for him, causing him to pivot on one foot to face them. He forgot about the small creature nestled in his palms. It wasn’t killed though, just hurt. It fluttered away, its left wing bent. Adam was the butterfly- beautiful and broken. Michael wouldn’t make the same mistake. He couldn’t. Not again. 

There was no need to be asked twice. Carefully scooting forward on the sharp gravel, he wrapped his arms around Adam and squeezed tightly. “Adam,” he murmured into his boyfriend’s soft brown hair, “it’s going to be alright. He’s never going to touch you ever again. He’s locked away somewhere far, far away. He’ll never hurt you ever again. I’ll make sure of it.”

Adam tightened his hold like the Titanic was sinking, and Michael was the only lifeboat left. “I’m sorry,” he managed to gasp out. “I’m a burden. I’m a waste of space and time and energy. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I- Just leave me. I’m useless. Good for nothing ‘cept pleasing Him.” Adam’s breathing, which had slowed to a relatively steady rhythm, started to get choppy and irregular again.

Michael put a soothing hand on Adam’s back and began rubbing small circles into the rough fabric of his coat. Swallowing down the bitter bile that had risen in his throat at Adam’s words, he started speaking again. “My angel, listen to me. You’re not a burden. You’re important and deserve everything good in this world. If it were up to me, you’d have everything good and wonderful.”

Looking up hesitantly, Adam choked back a sob. “Are- are you just saying that? How- how’re you- how’re you telling the truth when you’ve met me? I’m useless. I’m awful. I’m just a good for nothing waste of space.” He said the last part dully and without emotion, as if those words had been drilled into his head many times before.

Adam’s wide eyes were glazed over with tears that pierced into Michael’s heart. “Hush sweetheart,” he said, pressing a soft kiss into Adam’s hair. “None of that is true. You’re so important to me. So so important. I love you. I love you so much.” Michael continued to rub circles with his right thumb as he reached up with his left to tenderly scratch Adam’s scalp in what he hoped was a soothing fashion.

Adam hummed with content and leaned back slightly into the touch. “Mike? You’ll-” he was broken off by a shaky hiccup. “You’ll stay, right? Won’t leave? Stay?” He ducked his head and started biting at the collar of his shirt as he waited for an answer. It tasted like dirt, dust, and things that would be best left unnamed. He didn’t spit it out though, supposing it was a better option than chewing on a finger or beginning to scratch again.

“My angel, that’s not very clean.” Michael gently pulled the shirt down out of Adam’s mouth, trying his hardest to not go with his gut reaction to Adam’s pitiful whine of sadness. If he did that every time then Adam would have anything he wanted. Especially if the whine got paired with puppy eyes and a small pout. “Hush now, it’s okay,” he said softly.

Michael’s thoughts turned to the pacifier he usually kept clipped to the inside pocket of his coat. Patting his side, he felt nothing vaguely pacifier-like. He peeked quickly in to see a half-eaten granola bar and some loose change.

“Baby?” Adam looked up at the petname, shirt back in his mouth. Michael sighed and let it go for the time being. “Baby, how old are you?” There was the suspicion lurking in his mind that Adam had regressed from the stress and unwanted memories appearing suddenly. Later they would talk about what triggered the panic attack, but for now, they would take it easy.

Adam pondered the question, brow furrowing in concentration. Seemingly giving up, he shrugged. Michael chuckled softly. “Alright kiddo, let’s go home.” He stood and brushed off the seat of his pants. As he reached down to lift Adam up, he whispered in his ear. “ _Of course I’ll stay. I’m here for you sweetheart. Through the good, the bad, the mundane, and eventful. I’ll be right here by your side.”_

Adam seemed not to fully process what Michael had said. As he hummed softly and sucked on his shirt, he rested his head down on Michael’s shoulder and let himself be carried back to the car.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for sticking through 'till the end. You guys are awesome! If you'd like to comment, I'd be grateful. They make my day. And if you don't, it's cool too! Have an awesome day everyone.
> 
> If you've got any prompts you'd like someone to write, feel free to message me! I have a crap ton of motivation and zero ideas. None. Nada. Zip.
> 
> Oh! And if you're looking for a beta... *waves arms up and down frantically*  
> That sounded a bit desperate. As I said, I just don't really have any ideas myself. I'd love to help out others though, so that's that. I know I'm a pretty small writer, haven't posted many works on here. But hey! Why not?


End file.
